Its only half-time is a phrase favoured by many a football manager and fan who finds their team in the play-off lottery that is part of the end to the English Football League Season. Its usually uttered after the first leg of the semi-final, when, whatever the score there is still another match to follow. It also of course signifies the 20 minute break halfway through a normal soccer match.
Now you might well wonder what “its only half time” has to do with Thailand so let me try and explain what I mean.
Firstly you need to know that I am an English soccer/football fan and that yesterday was the English FA Cup Final, contested by two teams from the English Premier League.
Now even though I don’t support either of the teams that contested the final I wanted to watch the game live on satellite TV here in Thailand and with a 9pm local time kick-off it was an ideal way to spend my Saturday evening, which I had been planning for a while.
The Invitation.
That was until a rather ornate invitation card was delivered to the house about 10 days ago.
The card, nicely engraved, and addressed in Thai to Khun Duen and Luang Mike(Uncle Mike)….no mention of Doy I noted, informed us that we were invited to a party in the village to celebrate a young man joining the local temple as a monk. The “nak”* and his parents expected us at 6pm on Saturday 14th May 2011 on the waste ground next to the village hall that serves as both a football field and venue for the occasional village knees up.
Bugger…..bugger…..bugger!
The Nak’s Party.
Not only was I going to miss the match but my wallet would be a bit lighter too given that guests are expected to make a “donation.” Still knowing how these sort of affairs usually pan out I figured at worst I might make it home for half-time in the Cup Final. Consoling myself with this thought we arrived at the party by 6pm to find the local equivalent of cheerleaders belting out some Thai singing and dancing routines.
Now for anyone who has not been to such an event I should point out that just because there seem to be plenty of free tables near the front of the stage it is far better, if you value you hearing anyway, to chose somewhere the equivalent of a couple of football fields distant from the performers. As it was I fancy we ended up sitting at a table on what might equate to the half way line at Wembley, with the performers being in the away end.
Well events unfolded as they always do at village celebrations, after being greeted by the Nak and his parents we settled down at our table where there was the customary bottle of whiskey, a large bottle of Coke and the Thai equivalent of cherryade, a sickly sweet concoction that Doy loves and I hate because it makes her hyperactive, along with some water.
Anyway I digress. Food came and went as did the whiskey. The evening rolled by, the band played the dancers danced and speeches followed. To be honest I almost forgot about the football. Aided to some extent I am sure by my discovery of the female dancers “changing room” which was actually the open back of a pick up truck in full view of me and anyone who cast a glance in that direction.
Before I knew it the soup(tom yum) arrived, now quite why this always comes at the end of a Thai meal I remain uncertain, however a quick glance at the watch confirmed it was only 8.30 pm so with my thoughts now returning to Wembley I sat anticipating the guests starting to depart since the food was over.
Unfortunately at this stage, the fourth official, cunningly disguised as the father of the Nak, clearly wanted to ensure no one left empty handed so he sent the waiters forth again, this time armed with tins of Lychees(yes they were still in the cans). There was only a minor delay and as soon as our tin arrived right on cue Duen suggested we leave but not before my neighbour had gathered up my three-quarters full whiskey bottle to take home for her husband.
Heading home accompanied by Duen clutching the Lychees and Ge-ep the whiskey was made even more comical as Doy, now high on cherryade almost fell into the pond near the OK Karaoke. However we made it safely, just in time for me to catch a busty opera singer belting out the UK National Anthem to a packed Wembley Stadium.
Its Only Half Time.
Its only half time? Well if you have stuck with me this far I guess you really do deserve an explanation, or at least another insight into how my mind works sometimes.
Well the 2011 Cup Final may well be over but the celebrations in Nong Hin for the monk’s ordination certainly aren’t and after what seemed a very brief half-time they kicked off again at 5.30am this morning. By the way the second half is still underway at the moment as the Nak makes his way to the temple.
Who know perhaps the fat lady will sing soon and I can go back to bed 
For those not already asleep after reading my waffle:
* The term “Nak” is applied to a young Thai man who wishes to become a monk, after he has had his head/eyebrows shaved at the temple but has not yet been ordained as a novice monk. Usually the Nak wears a white robe after the head shaving and it is carried out the day before he becomes a monk. The party is said to be a way of reminding him what he will be giving up when he enters the monkhood.
For anyone wanting a serious account(well there might be someone out there) about the ordination of a Buddhist monk you can read this article.
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